


Draco's First Brassiere

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, Changing Bodies, Changing Room Flirting, Discussion of Breastfeeding, Embarrassment, First Bra, Leaky Nipples, M/M, Mpreg, Nipples, POV Draco Malfoy, Supportive Harry, baby bump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Draco isn't feeling particularly positive when Harry and he visitWizkids, the best pregnancy shop on Diagon Alley, with the specific goal of purchasing a bra.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 225





	Draco's First Brassiere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sassy_cissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/gifts).



> For sassy_cissa. Just a very small thank you for the HD Mpreg Fest that you've already put so much work into.

“Of all the activities I’ve imagined occurring during the course of my life,” Draco muttered, turning to examine his reflection from every angle, “never once did I envision buying a brassiere for _myself_ , Potter. Yet here we are. It’s _official_. I’ve turned into a bloody witch.”

If he was being entirely honest, Draco had hoped to entirely avoid the purchase of a paternity bra. It wasn’t that he was adverse to the idea of nursing their growing twins himself, but the whole process of buying one just felt so damnably embarrassing. He’d dragged Harry to _WizKids_ , the best pregnancy shop on Diagon Alley, determined to get it over with as quickly as possible. 

The whole process had been every bit as dreadful as he’d imagined, of course. 

The witch in charge had insisted on fitting him properly, which had resulted in tape measures being charmed around his entirely-too sensitive nipples. 

That humiliation had been followed by a mortifying trip around the shop floor. The displays were all dreadfully gender specific which didn’t help whatsoever with Draco’s awkwardness. Draco had been confronted with a myriad of posters of pretty witches with their cute and cuddly offspring. The brassieres themselves were even worse.

Draco rejected the first ten alone for their appliqué flowers and lacy trims. Even worse, the brand label read ‘ _for that extra-magical time in a witches life_...’ The whole bra-buying experience had been enough to turn Draco’s stomach. As he’d stood in the (pink and overly perfumed) changing rooms he’d actually felt a little ill. Draco hadn’t vomited since the end of his first trimester, but he’d had to sit down for a short moment, his legs wobbly and his tummy feeling shockingly dicey. 

Worse still, the brassieres themselves were decidedly hard to fathom. 

Draco’s bra looked like a harness that a suspicious medieval Muggle might have used to torture and torment an unsuspecting Wizard. The entire item was designed to test Draco’s patience. There seemed like a dozen straps, hooks, clips to contend with and that was before he’d even got the blasted thing _on_. With much huffing, puffing and eye rolling, Draco managed to get the offending item over his shoulders and wrapped around his chest. That didn’t signal the end of his parade of humiliations, however. Draco had needed to ask Harry to clip up the back because he couldn’t twist around his gigantic baby bump. 

Not only had he become a witch, Draco decided dolefully: he’d become a witch that needed his husband to dress him. 

Draco’s first bra was plain and black, in a stretchy breathable material. He’d chosen the most simple design in the whole emporium, with no annoying frills or fancies to itch and annoy him. Best of all was the was the reinforcement charm already weaved into the material. As Draco entered his third trimester, his new brassiere was magicked to grow alongside him, supporting his chest as each grew heavier and his body prepared itself to feed their two babies. 

Draco’s nipples had been aching, swollen and tender since the first month of his pregnancy but they'd suddenly become much more pert, standing to attention beneath his tee-shirts at the slightest provocation. He hoped this new bra would stop some of the dreadful _chafing_. That hadn’t been the only change to Draco's bust in recent weeks, though. His pectorals, always taut and muscular since his early teenager years, had become terribly supple. Soft, even. 

Draco didn’t think his chest was really big yet- certainly he wasn’t sporting the full breasts that his paternity book had warned him about- but he’d really begun to feel the difference in size, especially as there’d not been anything there before.

Worse still, however, had been the _leakage_. This hadn’t been too much of an issue initially: a little spotting on his vest at the end of the day which Draco had determinedly ignored. A few tiny leaks paled into insignificance when compared with the constipation, indigestion and flatulence that had marked out this pregnancy as quite the most undignified period of Draco's life. 

Draco had taken to remedying the leaks with breast pads, which he’d magicked to the inside of his shirts using a sticking charm. 

His plan had worked perfectly until the atrociously awful day that his magic had decided to fluctuate; a side effect of having babies that seemed to be occurring more and more often. Regrettably, this drop off in his magical levels had happened on the very same afternoon that Harry and he had been sharing an afternoon lunch in a small Diagon cafe with the Weasley-Grangers.

Draco, forced by the size of growing bump to squash ungainly into their booth, had been shocked at the sudden spread warm wetness across his chest. To his unmitigated horror, Draco had realised the front of his silky shirt was saturated with a growing stain of leaky colostrum.

The next few minutes had been some of the most humiliating of Draco’s life. 

Unwedging himself from his seat hadn’t been as easy as he’d have wanted and that came before his walk-of-shame to the cafe toilet, his cheeks aflame and his wet spot growing larger with every second that passed. Harry had rushed to his aid of course, saving Draco’s blushes. His husband had dried Draco's tears, _Scourgifed_ Draco’s shirt and helped him to re-attach the breast-pads, assuring him over and over again that neither Hermione or Ron had noticed anything amiss. 

Draco, of course, had known Harry’s words were all kindly fibs, but he’d allowed himself to be mollified. His Magi-Midwife had advised him to purchase a brassiere at his very next appointment. 

“Your magic can’t really be trusted any more,” she’d reminded Draco in a kindly voice, “and these little leaks are going to happen more and more often. You have to look upon them as the positive they are, Mr. Malfoy. Your body is gearing up for feeding two tiny babies, so it’s really a very healthy sign. A strong supportive paternity brassiere is the best option all round. You can tuck a little something inside and stop these pesky accidents”

Harry, of course, had been kindness incarnate throughout the whole humbling experience and had never left Draco’s side. Right now, he was sat at the back of the changing room, studiously examining an ancient copy of _Witch Weekly_ while he waited for Draco to make his bra choices. He looked up at Draco’s muttered grumblings and threw the magazine down onto the seat beside him. 

“You haven’t turned into a witch,” Harry replied, standing up. “You look amazing. Stunning. You’re still my husband and your clever body is growing our babies… I hope the bra will make you feel comfortable but wearing it doesn’t make you any less of a man.” 

Harry walked over to where Draco was still perusing his reflection and clasped his hands around Draco’s shoulders. Draco felt the wash of Harry’s magic run over his skin, warming his belly with a pure love and attraction. Draco stroked a hand over his bump in automatic response and found Harry’s eyes in the mirror. Harry’s green eyes were dark with desire as they flickered down over the length of Draco’s body. 

“Besides,” Harry continued, his hand flicking downwards and skirting over the soft material of Draco’s new bra, “I happen to be rather enjoying these new parts of you. All these new erogenous parts... You’ve never been so responsive before.” He rolled a finger over Draco’s puffy areola and it hardened, pebbling under Harry’s attentions. Draco raised an eyebrow in response, but he couldn’t deny the desire that was radiating from Harry. It felt more than a little intoxicating. 

“Didn’t think you liked breasts,” Draco teased. “I specifically remember you saying you preferred _blokes_ , Potter. About the time you started sleeping with me-”

Harry snorted. “Difference was, not one of those other breasts were ever attached to you,” he explained, brushing a kiss over Draco’s hair. “And, in case you’ve missed it, I happen to be absolutely bloody _besotted_ by you. Now, if you don’t mind love, I’m heartily sick of shopping… Pay for that bra, Draco and let’s both Apparate home. I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon reminding you exactly how much I adore _you_ , my entirely gorgeous, entirely sexy husband.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xxxx


End file.
